Thrall or not Thrall, that Is the Question
by listen-to
Summary: Fleur is confronted with an old question. She hopes the anwer is NO in this case. One Shot. Set after the 7th book ignoring the epilogue. Fluffy femslash (again). If you don't like that, don't read it. Disclaimer: I do not own the HP universe or anything that comes with it. I am just visiting.


A window in on the first floor crashed. Harry and Ginny jumped away in shock as some glass shards, a vase, and some fresh flowers flew into the garden of 12 Grimmauld Place. Both casted a shield charm. The mess hit the veranda with a crash and a splash. Harry recognised the broken window as being one of the library. He and Ginny ran inside and upstairs, wand at the ready. In the two years he had been living in the old house, he managed to turn it into a home for himself, Ginny, and his two flatmates. Currently he was nearly knocked down on the stairs as one of his flatmates simply ran for dear life. Harry was sure, he spotted some tears in Hermione's eyes when she was level with him. In the back pocket of her jeans were tickets of a Muggle movie theatre. His other flatmate appeared in the library door, calling after the fleeing woman. There was no use. She was already through the front door. Long silver-blond hair swished back into the library. Through the open door Harry and Ginny heard Fleur using colourful language. 'Merde' was more on the grey-scale of the colour spectrum. Harry looked at Ginny. His girlfriend mouthed a 'wow'. Hermione was probably out of reach by now. They decided to follow Fleur.

Fleur had moved into Grimmauld Place right after she got a divorce from Bill in the aftermath of the war. It had turned out that they got married as a smokescreen. They were gay. That would have made them a target for the Death Eaters. As best friends they had tried to cover each other's backs with this marriage. This way, Fleur earned Ginny's respect, especially because the French witch never mentioned the fact that she could have taken the easy way out just by returning to France. She had stayed and fought at their side, although the Death Eaters categorized her as 'half-breed' due to her veela heritage. Aunt Muriel on the other hand refused to let the divorcees stay in Shell Cottage. A divorce! That was unheard of in her side of the family. Bill returned to the Burrow. Fleur accepted Harry's offer to live at his house. Ginny and Hermione had moved in directly after their graduation six month later.

Harry and Ginny found their friend looking rather confused and flushed. The veela was repairing the window with some silent spell, waving her wand. She straitened the little table by the window where the vase had been standing on minutes ago. Fleur sat one of the chairs in front of the fireplace, looking sad.

"Sometimes I hate my veela heritage", she said, hiding her face in her hands. Harry and Ginny let themselves fall into the love chair.

"Why is that?" Ginny asked.

"My thrall." Fleur waved her hand in frustrated gesture through the air. "It seems to affect Hermione now."

"I thought only men are affected by it", Harry said. Images of Roger Davis incoherent babbling during the Yule Ball Dinner or Ron drooling over her during the wedding preparations came to his mind. Had he ever met a girl that reacted to Fleur like that? Katie Bell maybe. He had never given that a deeper thought.

"No. It has to do with attraction. Anyone who is into women can be affected by it. That is why Bill has always been immune against it."

Harry nodded as if to say 'Of course!'. From the garden came the muffled sound of Kreacher's voice and the splintering sound of fired clay charmed back together.

"What happened here?" Ginny asked, gesturing with her head towards the window. Fleur shrugged and let out a long breath.

"Hermione came in, mumbled something at me with the word 'movie' in it and waved some tickets in her hands. She knocked the vase over with such force that it went right through the window. She blushed like a Weasley – sorry, Ginny – and ran before I could say a thing." Fleur frowned. "I hate it, when this is happening. I really like her. I think, I'm starting to like-like her. I have wondered for some time now, if there is a chance that she is swinging both ways. But this is not the way I have imagined to find out. What I don't understand is, why it is happening now. If she really is attracted to women, the thrall would have kicked in right from the beginning. Not after she and I've spend so much time together."

Harry tried to scrape and piece together all the bits of knowledge he had about veelas and their culture. The veela's thrall can have an effect on a man or apparently also on a woman that was similar to a love portion. Like Armotentia, the thrall does not manufacture true love but a powerful infatuation. In her mere presence the enthralled person becomes totally devoted to the veela, maybe is even stripped of his or her free will. Though, not everyone is inclined to fall under the thrall. Some are even immune against it despite the sexual orientation. Actually, the veela can only find true love with someone who never has been under her influence. Can you put it that way? Harry wondered. Normally he would just ask Hermione for a more academic explanation, but that was not an option now, was it?

"When have you two been spending time together? You two are at work during the day and in the evenings we four are together here or with friends or at the Burrow?" Ginny asked. Fleur smiled sadly.

"She still has nightmares. When she wakes up during the night, she goes to the kitchen to have a midnight snack like ice cream, something with molten cheese, or tea. I also have trouble sleeping. So I've joined her. We've talked. About our families, how we grew up. How Molly and Arthur took the blow that Bill is gay and we had a fake marriage. The ups and downs of growing up as a veela or as a Muggle born in a magic community. How we both sometimes miss Shell Cottage. The stories we liked when we were little. Her trip to France with her parents. Italian food. Nothing and everything."

Fleur gazed out of the window. Her right hand rested on her chest. Harry and Ginny looked at each other.

"How do you know she is not just being shy? It can be rather intimidating to ask some out", Harry asked, remembering the trouble he was in when he tried to approach Cho. Not that he would mention that while Ginny sat beside him. Sure, Hermione was not a fourteen-year old boy in the height of his puberty. However, she did not have much romantic experience. The little experience she had was not pleasant in the end. Fleur shook her had at his remark.

"Hermione is not shy. She is the strongest person I know. But just now she acted like Ron when he asked me out to the Yule Ball", Fleur said. Harry and Ginny exchanged knowing glances.

"According to your theory Ron must have a thrall, too", Ginny finally said. Fleur looked at Ginny as if she was mad.

"What makes you say that?"

Ginny chuckled. Harry grinned. Fleur glared at them.

"She never told you about the time she dated my dear brother before she returned to Hogwarts for her N.E.W.T.s?"

Fleur shook her head. She raised her eyebrows to urge the couple to continue.

"At one of their first dates Hermione tried to cook for Ron at the Burrow. She was so nervous that she burned down half of Molly's kitchen. You can still see some of the burn marks over the oven", Harry explained.

Fleur gaped at him. "That was Hermione? I thought Fred and George were responsible for that", she said.

"No. You probably have noticed that Mom doesn't allow Hermione to be alone in the kitchen. Which is a pity, because her Italian dishes are quiet good, as you know. And Mom never got the hang of cooking pasta properly", Ginny explained. "Fleur, believe me. Hermione is shy under her strong appearance. My git of a brother is quite responsible for that. The fact that Ron ignored her during their sixth year and cheated on her with Lavender of all people after they started dating did not help her self-esteem in romantic matters. And maybe the fact, that she was asking out a girl for the first time, has also something to do with her behaviour."

Fleur seemed to ponder this. "When you put it like that, it is a wonder she approached me at all", she said.

"Exactly", Harry said.

"So, how do I know, if she really likes me and is not just under my thrall?"

"Maybe her plan for the date gives you a hint, if she is actually attracted to you or if she has just turned into a enthralled goo-goo eyed sap. Do you have any idea what she's planned?"

"Other than the word 'movie'? No."

"You should ask her. I think there is a chance that you might experience a pleasant surprise", Harry said.

Harry and Ginny got up and left their friend to her thoughts.

###

Fleur waited the rest of the day for Hermione to return home. She stayed in the library most of the time. There she would hear the front door. Hermione had to get past the waiting veela on her way to her room. Harry or Ginny visited her from time to time. Kreacher muttered outside the room under his breath now and than. But Hermione was not to be seen.

Fleur tried to read. She took one book, thumbed trough it, put it back. She repeated this little ritual four or five times. In the last one Fleur found a small pencil note in Hermione's writing in the margins of one page. What she had scribbled into the book was of no consequence for Fleur current situation. It was just nice to know that the other witch had this book in her hands as well. Fleur retraced the grey lines tenderly. She sighed. Only once in her life during a summer vacation Fleur was attracted to a girl with whom she could be sure that the she was really interested in Fleur, the girl not Fleur, the veela. Caroline. She was also part veela and therefore immune. Their mutual affections never developed to something deeper. In the end, it was nothing more than a summer fling. And Hermione? She did not want to loose Hermione, especially when there was the slightest chance that the other woman retuned her cautiously growing feelings. Hermione might even be Fleur's one and only. But if the thrall had broken some kind of barrier and got through to Hermione, that could never be. Hermione would than be lost to her even as a friend. Why was there no way to control that damn thing? Why was it there at all? Fleur carefully replaced the book on the shelf. Finally, she flopped herself on the sofa and just listened for some sound that indicated Hermione's return. Was she really going to wait for her all day? Yes. Who said, only enthralled people could be fools in love? Not that she would ever let anybody know that, would she?

In the evening Fleur got hungry. She went to the kitchen. She prepared a sandwich and opened a butterbeer. Fleur sat at the kitchen table. She took her usual place, near the fireplace, opposite to Hermione. She looked at the empty space in front of her, remembering on of their nightly conversations.

#

_"__What is your favourite book from your childhood or youth?" Hermione asked. A bowl of chocolate ice cream with large chunks of white chocolate and deep dark chocolate sauce sat in the middle of the table between them. Both women had a spoon in one hand and took turns dipping them into the bowl. Kreacher made the ice cream and other little treats for Hermione ever since he found out that it soothed her at night._

_"__Actually, my favourite story is not a book but a movie. Papa took me - and later Gabrielle as well - to the Muggle cinemas on Sunday afternoons. Sometimes they screened old Hollywood movies with French subtitles. There was this one romance that enchanted me when I was eleven. It is called _An Affair to Remember_. A man and women meet on a ship and fall in love. They agree to meet in six month on the top of the Empire State Building in New York because they have to sort out their lives before they can be together properly. But their happy end is almost lost due to an unhappy accident. I wonder, if I would still like this film now. Or if was just special because it was the last visit to the cinema with my father before I had to leave for Beauxbatons."_

_Hermione had just created the perfect spoonful. A large chunk of the white chocolate sat in the middle of a blob of ice cream, some sauce on top. She enjoyed it, before she continued._

_"__Perhaps you should watch it again. I find, that rereading the stories that I liked when I was younger, helps me to get to know myself better. We had to grow up in such a short time since Voldemort invaded our lives. The stories help me to remember who I was back than."_

_Fleur tried to decide from which side she should approach the little iceberg in his sea of sauce next. "I thought, you are only into reading academic stuff", she said._

_Hermione carefully let some ice cream melt on her tongue. "No. In my book a good told story is always something to look forward to", she replied._

_"__Yes. I can relate to that", Fleur said, smiling. They sat silence for a while, happily eating the ice cream._

_"__What about food? What is your favourite dish?" Fleur asked. She had to lick some chocolate sauce from the corner of her mouth._

_"__Shepard's pie. Though I also like Italian food very much", Hermione answered._

_"__I don't care much for the pie, but antipasti, pizza, and pasta I like as well", Fleur said. They took smaller and smaller portions of ice cream on their spoons. It should last a little bit longer._

_"__So if a woman really wants to win your heart, she has to find the right film for the first date and a nice Italian restaurant?" Hermione asked._

_"__A movie and dinner. That sound like a perfect date", Fleur said, smiling. She offered Hermione the rest of the ice cream who happily scratched out the bowl._

#

That was a few weeks ago. They had not discussed their love life since. Maybe Harry was right and there was still some hope. Obviously she would not get the answer without Hermione. Fleur hoped, that Hermione was OK. The veela put her dish into the sink, replaced the empty bottle and made her way up to her room.

Fleur stopped in front of Hermione's door, listening for some signs of life of the other woman. Perhaps Hermione had apperated directly into her room? Fleur heard some whimpering and murmuring. She knocked. No answer. She called Hermione's name. No answer. Only the whimpering continued. Fleur decided to go in. Something was not right in there. She silently opened the door, entered the room. There she was. Hermione was still wearing a shirt and jeans, tossing around in her bed, sweating; tears were running down her cheeks. A nightmare again. Fleur walked around the bed, sat on the bedside. She stroked Hermione's cheek. The sleeping woman seemed to calm down a bit at the touch, her heart still beating fast. Fleur put her hand on one of Hermione's. Her eyes wandered to the nightstand. There they were. The tickets Hermione had waved at Fleur earlier. They looked like they had been crumpled and smoothed out again. Fleur took one. _An Affair to Remember!_ How was that possible? 7p.m. next Saturday in the little repertory cinema a few blocks way. There was also a letter from the cinema management. Should she read it? Fleur hesitated. Curiosity got the better of her. The letter informed Hermione that her proposal had won a competition for the monthly cineaste request programme they offered. So it was more than a mere coincidence. And there was a menu of a restaurant in the same street. _Restaurante La Roma_. Fleur knew that one. They had great seafood. So here was the answer to her question. No. No one under a veela thrall could be so thoughtful or would make such long-term plans. Enthralled men and women tended to shower her with cliché compliments, stammered something about champagne, or tried to impress her with invitations to exquisite French restaurants. But this? This was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her. Especially the choice of film. It was like Hermione was saying: I want to get to know you better. Fleur's heart swelled. But where had Hermione been all day? Fleur looked around the room. There were a few scrunched up parchments on the floor. She could read 'Dear Fleur' and a lot of crossed out lines on some of them.

"What are you doing here?"

Startled by the voice, Fleur turned to Hermione. Hermione rubbed one eye with her free hand and looked back at her. Fleur stroked Hermione's knuckles with her thumb.

"Sorry. I didn't want to wake you up. I was worried, so I checked on you. It sounded like you had a rough night."

Hermione struggled to sit up, did not let go of Fleur's hand. She leaned against the headboard.

"Yes. No. You don't need to apologize. I'm sorry for running away from you like that. That wasn't my most graceful moment."

Hermione blushed and averted her eyes. Fleur could not help but laugh.

"Oh, I wouldn't know about that. You should show Ginny the trick with the vase. She might want to use that move in her next Quidditch game." Hermione swatted her with her free hand. Fleur laughed, than smiled at the other women. She nodded in the direction of the tickets on the nightstand.

"You have been planning the perfect date for us. That is a very graceful thing to do. Thank you. I would love to go out with you", she said softly.

Hermione gave her a relived smile. Fleur leaned in, kissing the other woman lightly on the lips. Hermione wrapped her arms around Fleur who in return embraced her as well. They were holding each other for a long moment. Fleur could still feel the effects of Hermione's nightmare. Her beating heart, the sweaty t-shirt. Fleur pulled away a little to look Hermione in the eyes.

"What about now? Do you want to try go back to sleep? Or do you want to freshen up a little and have a look in the fridge? I heard Kreacher mutter something about lemon cheesecake and raspberry sorbet as suitable comfort food for emergencies. I think, there is still a bottle of white wine somewhere that should go beautifully with it", Fleur said.

"You are coming, too?" There was a hopeful glint in Hermione's eyes. Fleur smiled, nodded.

"Lemon cheesecake it is than."

###


End file.
